Chapter 11: Play Dumb and Blind Me
"Miho, are you all right?" said Hiroki's worried voice.
Miho opened her eyes drowsily. Her hair was still damp and she was shivering slightly under the covers—her weary mind immediately chastised her for being an utterly complete fool and not showering when she'd returned the night before. She didn't quite remember what time she'd come back last night; she just knew that she'd waited far past midnight, when the rain had grown from its erratic showers to a steady fall. Only when it had become a full-blown thunderstorm had it clicked in Miho's mind that Itachi wasn't going to come, hadn't been planning on coming at all, and that she was a stupid idiot who had been much too blinded by foolish trust to see the reality of her situation.
"Miho?"
She sat up, and her head throbbed painfully. She winced as the pain swelled then desisted to just a consistent pulse.
"You don't look well," he said. "We should go to the hospital—"
"No," croaked Miho. "It's fine. I'll just sleep at home…"
Hiroki looked uncertain and shifted on his feet—it looked like he wanted to tell her something.
"Something wrong, Otou-san?"
"No," he said after a moment's pause. "I…I have to go out for a bit to settle some business, but I hear Kakashi is back from his mission. I'll send him to check up on you."
"It's fine," said Miho. "I don't want to trouble him."
"Nonsense, he wasn't even here for your birthday."
Miho decided not to remind Hiroki that he hadn't been there either, nor had Itachi, but she decided not to vocalize her self-pity.
"It's fine…"
But just as she said the words, she caught Kakashi's surpressed chakra outside the house. Relief unconsciously filled her—she was glad that he had come, glad for his distraction. Kakashi always healed her ill moods because he always knew how to read her and react accordingly; perhaps he could even tell her what the hell was wrong with her head.
The doorbell rang, and Hiroki looked behind him.
"Hm, that Kakashi's gotten better again. I can't even sense him until he's right behind me now."
Miho didn't comment and instead lied back down on her bed as Hiroki exited the room. There were murmurs outside, and then Kakashi's chakra appeared right in front of her. She didn't bother looking up as he closed the door and sat down in a chair beside her.
He tousled her hair lightly.
"Feeling sick, Miho?"
She gave a noncommittal grunt in response.
"Happy birthday," said Kakashi easily, placing a tissue-wrapped gift in front of her. "You don't turn fifteen everyday."
Miho gave a wry smile and took the present in her hands.
"I don't know what's the big deal about birthdays," she said as she unwrapped it delicately. "They come every year."
"You should know better than that, having been in ANBU for a time," said Kakashi chidingly. "Death can come at any minute—we should appreciate the time we do have."
"So pessimistic and dark, senpai…" She admired the crystal-studded bracelet that lay against the tissue paper. "It's gorgeous…but I'd never wear it."
"You should eventually," he grinned. "You need to work on being a bit more feminine, you know."
"Yeah right. I'm going to be a nun," she muttered. "Forever and ever."
"Miho, just because things with Itachi didn't work out—"
"Don't even mention his name," seethed Miho, tucking the bracelet over her wrist with unnecessary force. "Stupid. Asshole."
Kakashi looked a bit sympathetic, then slightly conflicted. Miho noticed.
"What is it?"
"Miho…your father didn't want me to tell you, but…you really shouldn't feel like that towards Itachi."
"Why?" she said, glaring darkly.
Kakashi sighed. "Your father wanted you to stay in so you didn't have to hear the news…but you're going to hear eventually so I don't see the harm in telling you already…"
Miho bolted upright. She could feel a sick swoop of fear in her stomach. "Did something happen to Uchiha?"
"Not to Itachi," said Kakashi, choosing his words carefully. "But his cousin…Shisui of the Body Flicker…he was found dead in the river this morning."
Miho's eyes widened.
"Someone…" she struggled to say the words, "killed him?"
"Not quite…" frowned Kakashi. "Or, that's what we're supposed to think…he apparently left a suicide note…the contents haven't been revealed, but rumor has it that he was growing tired of the Uchiha's 'path,' and that there was no future for it."
Miho didn't say anything, but her heart stopped beating for a second. That didn't sound like Shisui…on the other hand, it sounded suspiciously like someone else…
"Truthfully, I don't think he killed himself," said Kakashi. "I met Shisui for a few missions—there was nothing more important to him than the Uchiha. It doesn't seem plausible."
"What does Uchiha—Itachi, I mean, what does he have to do with it?"
Kakashi arched an eyebrow. "I thought you'd know. He's Shisui's cousin and the two of them were close—I thought he would be having a hard time of it."
In an effort to scramble out of bed, Miho fell out of it and onto the floor with a hard thump. Kakashi looked amused.
"Your coordination is severely lacking, Miho."
"Shut up," she snapped, standing up. "I'm going to go out for a bit, senpai—where's my dad?"
"He said he was going to meet with the Uchiha," said Kakashi cautiously. "You're going to head over as well?"
"I should…" she struggled to buckle the clasp to her weapons pouch on her belt, "probably go and…uh…pay my condolences…"
Kakashi looked highly skeptical, but did not press her for answers. She was grateful, and after bidding a quick goodbye and thank you to him, she left her room through the window, letting the chakra flow to her legs naturally and speeding up as went through the city.
When she got closer to the Uchiha compound though, she slowed to a walk as she began to question herself. Did she really care that much? Was Itachi's business…her business? The more she walked, the more hesitant she became. This was stupid. They hadn't spoken in months—and he hadn't been at the bridge either. He'd completely ignored her—clearly, she meant nothing to him.
But was that it? Perhaps he hadn't made it to the bridge because he had been tangled with whoever had killed Shisui—for even Miho knew that Shisui would never say that the Uchiha had no future—and therefore hadn't been able to make it.
Or…
Miho shuddered. The rumored suicide note that Kakashi had mentioned sounded vaguely like something Itachi would've said. He hated clan pride and held the superiority complex of the rest in high contempt. Perhaps Itachi and Shisui had clashed and then it had escalated into something much more terrible?
She shook her head. No. Itachi wouldn't kill someone he was so close to, no matter what the reasons.
But…Itachi had changed. Some parts of him just…just didn't seem normal lately.
Miho had been so absorbed in her thoughts that her feet had unconsciously carried her to the main street in front of Itachi's house. Four men were not far off, causing Miho to duck reflexively into the shadows of the wall. She could not hear them, but the chakra was easy to read, and it seemed that none of them were happy. One of them was definitely Itachi…his emotion was difficult to sense, but he seemed annoyed and angry…the other three were more visibly angry and…perhaps suspicious?
She inched closer and quietly, making sure to stay out of their line of sight so that she could eavesdrop in peace.
"Why don't you three just be direct?" said Itachi's voice coldly.
All four of their chakras shifted and drained; their Sharingan had activated.
For some reason, Itachi's seemed to drain more than it used to…perhaps he was tired.
"You suspect me, don't you?" said Itachi again, and his tone was burning with such intense dislike that Miho shuddered. This was the Itachi who had trapped her in a genjutsu out of frustration—this was an Itachi who could wound and maim without conscious.
But kill?
Miho didn't think so.
There was a swift movement, and Itachi stepped forward. The three men surrounding him simultaneously fell to the ground as Itachi straightened up slowly, his words carrying the heavy weights of one sorely vengeful.
"I told you already, do not judge people based on your preconceptions and judgments of their appearance. You assumed that I have patience…the clan, the clan…that's all you talk about. But here you are, having failed to measure your own capacity, having failed to accurately see the depth of mine…that is the reason you have been beaten."
Miho shuddered again. The atmosphere was so frigid that she would not have been surprised had Itachi's intense dislike solidified in real life.
"Shisui told us to keep an eye on you," one of the men said, trembling as he stood. "A year and a half after your entrance into ANBU, and you've changed so much…what the hell are you thinking, Itachi!"
"All you do is hold onto the name and pride of your clan…" said Itachi coolly. "Such things limit us and our capacities to be strong…such things should be cast away. It is foolish to fear what we've yet to see and know."
Miho had no idea what he was talking about—if anything, she sensed a strong disconnect in the entire conversation, as if Itachi were merely musing aloud instead of actually replying to his elders. She had heard that Itachi had gotten ruder and disrespectful to his clansmen, but she hadn't expected him to ever use such a tone. It frightened her, more than anything, but part of it aroused an insatiable curiosity. Was this the real Itachi? Was he finally showing his less-than-perfect sides?
"Stop it, Itachi," said a gruff voice, and Miho jolted from her hiding spot. It was Fugaku. "What in the world are you doing?"
Itachi didn't answer.
"You've been acting strangely lately…" said Fugaku. "Where were you last night?"
"…Carrying out my duty…"
"What do you mean?"
Itachi swiftly threw out his arm, and a kunai flew across the street and hit the center of the Uchiha crest that had been painted on the wall. It hit with such force that the fan cracked, and Miho could sense the air drop a few more degrees.
"I've lost all hope for this pathetic clan," said Itachi in a low voice. "You forget what is important to you as you cling to something so small and pitiful as your clan. True change cannot be made by laws and limitations, predictions and imagination."
"Such arrogance!" roared one of the older men. "Continue in such a manner and we will have to arrest you! Captain Fugaku! Order it!"
"Stop it, Nii-san!" a higher voice shouted, and Miho realized that in the face of the situation, she had completely neglected Sasuke's miniscule chakra from within the house. He must've been hiding away, just like she was.
Itachi seemed to have missed Sasuke's presence as well, for he stiffened at the sound of his younger brother's voice.
Itachi fell to his knees and bowed his head to the ground. Despite the gravity of the situation, Miho could not help but feel a wave of incredulity. What was he doing…
"It was not I who killed Shisui," said Itachi, his voice still low and muffled, "but for my words, I apologize deeply."
"Then where were you last night?"
Miho acted purely on impulse, without evaluating any consequences or reflecting on the stupidity of her action. She ran out, into view of everyone there, and intervened before Itachi replied.
"He was with me," she said in a rush.
All eyes turned to her, and if Miho was not so shocked with her own actions, she would've blushed crimson with the stupidity of her situation.
"Since when have you been here?" said one of the older Uchiha angrily. "If you've been snooping on police questioning, that's a crime—"
"You didn't even sense her," interjected Itachi as he stood up. His tone was politely courteous. "Of course she just arrived."
The Uchiha looked somewhat abashed at this obvious statement.
"Of course. What are you doing here, then?"
"I…" Miho thought quickly. Why was she here again? "I'm here to pay my condolences." She made a deep bow. "I'm sorry about…Shisui-san."
"A great loss," said Fugaku gravely. "Thank you for coming by despite your health—Hiroki mentioned you haven't been feeling well lately."
"I'm fine," said Miho, but at Fugaku's reminder, her head throbbed with renewed vigor. "I also wanted to come and…uh…apologize…for…detaining Itachi last night…I…er…."
"I understand that the two of you haven't been…communicating as much?" said Fugaku warily.
"He…Itachi has been busy, and so have I…so we haven't seen each other a lot…and," Miho had an epiphany, "yesterday was my birthday so I was upset when Itachi initially said that he wouldn't come because of a clan meeting so I said I wouldn't ever speak to him again if he didn't come so essentially I forced him to accompany me and miss the meeting."
She had never spoken so quickly, nor would she ever have admitted aloud that she actually did threaten the things she'd just said. She felt incredibly foolish as the adults looked at her, the officers with condescension, Fugaku with mixed sentiment and distrust.
"I see…" said one of the officers slowly. "I forgot about…teenage drama."
"To get in the way of such meetings…shows immaturity and lack of priorities."
Miho would've worked overtime for the rest of the month to prevent the burning sensation of humiliation from crawling up her cheeks.
"Very well," said Fugaku, cutting short her misery. "I will deal with Itachi accordingly, and I apologize for his actions. His ceaseless work at ANBU must have tired him."
"Fine…" said the officers grudgingly. "We will be back later."
Fugaku nodded in appreciation before turning to Itachi. The two of them exchanged glances and some sort of understanding, for Fugaku looked away shortly to Miho.
"I hope you understand that this must be the only time you detain Itachi from his shinobi duties," said Fugaku severely.
Miho bowed. "Yes, I apologize."
Fugaku nodded and retreated into the confines of his house, ushering Sasuke, who gave a frightened look to Miho and Itachi, along with him.
Now that it was just the two of them, alone and with all bouts of incoming awkwardness, Miho found her foolishness amplifying.
"You didn't have to interfere," said Itachi.
She was surprised to hear that his voice was no longer polite, but rather coarse and cold. It unsettled her, but she turned to him with a level gaze.
"You should be thanking me for saving your ass."
Itachi scoffed. "I never asked for it. You should not meddle in Uchiha affairs, Chiaki Miho. It will do you no good."
"Uchiha, Uchiha, Uchiha," she spat, her head searing with the hatred for his surname. "I didn't come here for your Uchiha affairs. Life would be better if they didn't exist at all."
"Then what do you want?"
"I…" For once, Miho faltered. She did not know the answer to this question.
"I thought last night would've given you a rather clear message of our situation," said Itachi icily.
"Of course," she muttered. "Or, rather, that's what I'm supposed to believe, but let me speculate a bit here—you're the last person who saw Shisui before he died, weren't you?"
Alarm flashed across Itachi's face, disappearing as quickly as it came.
"Prove it," he said simply.
"I can't," she answered. "I'm just speculating. But judging from your reaction, I'm right."
"There was no reaction."
Miho snorted. "When are you going to stop pretending that I'm absolutely stupid? You can keep dodging things if you want like a coward, but I'll be upfront since you seem completely incapable of that—I came because I was worried about you, because you've been a bit unhinged lately and I was worried that Shisui's death would make you crack. Good to see that you're just an impassive, cold-hearted bastard in the face of that news though," she added coldly.
She would've said more, but it was already taking the maximum amount of self-control she had to not show how much her head was hurting her. Her vision was already beginning to blur hazily—the disruption caused her to grow alarmed with her condition that she had brushed aside before.
"…I would retort," said Itachi, "but you've alternated between a bright flush and a deathly pallor for the last few minutes of your tirade. Are you well?"
"Clearly not," she said under her breath, bringing a hand up to her forehead and rubbing it. "I really want to keep talking but—"
It was like her bodily center of gravity shifted because she suddenly felt like she was leaning over the edge of a cliff—she stumbled backward but found that her legs could no longer support her. Itachi caught her around the waist, but before she could voice her distaste, her head swirled and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she was out like a light.
Itachi did not know why he still did such things for Chiaki Miho. Why he ignored his own mental warnings as, upon Miho's collapse, he immediately brought her to the outskirts of the village, knowing instantly that the last place she wanted to go to was the hospital. Why he couldn't seem to shake her off when he should—why he wet a scrap of cloth and placed it on her burning forehead and tried to reduce her body temperature using soothing chakra to try and seek out the source of her fever. Why he could not stop feeling so incredibly relieved that she had stood up for him when she truly had no idea what he was capable of.
Half an hour passed as Itachi stood there, on guard in case others approached, but torn between leaving her there or taking her to the hospital. She stirred just as he was about to pick her up and leave her at the hospital, causing him to pause.
"…Are you awake?" he inquired cautiously.
Miho opened her eyes blearily. It seemed that her headache had alleviated, but she winced as she sat up and looked around.
"I faint," she said dully, "and you bring me into the forest instead of the hospital."
"I assumed that was the last place you would want me to take you to," he answered simply.
"And since when have you ever taken into consideration what I want?" she retorted.
This hadn't occurred to Itachi, for his eyes lit up briefly before assuming their ever indifferent lackluster nature.
"What is the cause of your fever?" he questioned. "Have you been overworking? Trying to forget me? Or is it also because you waited in the rain last night on the bridge?"
Miho's eyes flickered in assent. The pang of guilt in him was only minimal—Shisui's blood was still fresh on his hands, as well as the eternal weight that had settled in his chest.
"You are a fool to believe I would've abandoned my duties for you," he said coolly.
"Oh, but you weren't exactly doing your duties, were you?" she said sarcastically. "May I speculate again, oh-great-Uchiha? Didn't you plan on meeting me last night, only to have Shisui-san stop you?"
His face remained the same, but he could not stop himself from stiffening. Did she know? Then why had she intervened?
"And you didn't come because Shisui-san reminded you that you were wrong, that you should've been at the meaning, that you should've never forgotten your duty. Did he kill himself to make the point, Itachi?" she said.
Here, he paused.
"What?" he asked.
"You heard me," she said quietly. "Did he kill himself in front of you? Are you forever bound to the Uchiha now, knowing that your best friend would kill himself to make sure you stayed?"
It was starting to dawn on Itachi just what Miho had mistakenly assumed.
"You," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "don't believe I killed Shisui?"
She glared at him. "How long are you going to pretend that I'm stupid?"
"The others thought I did."
Her gaze softened, almost unwillingly, as she looked determinedly away from him before speaking again.
"You're not that kind of person," she said very, very softly.
The irony of it all. She was the sharpest girl he knew, perhaps the one that he was most frightened of finding out the truth…
Blinded.
She was just like the rest of them, only the opposite. Blinded by her own assumptions, by her own analysis and judgments of his persona. Believing obstinately, adamantly, self-destructively that he was still the same, kind person that she had admitted she liked so long ago. Still the same Itachi who had planned to meet her that night on the bridge.
"Do you think so?" he heard himself saying, his voice colder than he wanted it to be.
Miho's gaze met his again, and it was sharply wary. He spotted a sign that she did not quite believe what she had said seconds ago either.
Of course. She wasn't that stupid.
"Why would Shisui kill himself?" Itachi scoffed. "You've met Shisui. Do you really think he would kill himself to make me stay? Don't you think…" He bent down next to her and tilted her chin up, their faces so close that their breaths mingled, "he'd try to kill me instead?"
Miho pushed back immediately, and Itachi noted with satisfaction that she really had gotten much better than the last time he'd actually crossed paths with her. Every exertion of chakra was precise and sharp; she skidded to a stop a few feet away from him, her gray eyes flashing as she stood up, her chakra already suppressed again.
"I am not the one trying to pretend you are stupid, Chiaki Miho. You're very clearly the one deluding herself. You know already—Shisui would never commit suicide. I—"
"Why?" she said.
The inquiry, for some reason, unsettled him. He was unsure as to why.
"That is a question I'm not bound to answer."
"Why?" she said again.
He realized why it was so strange this time.
She was not angry. She did not ask it out of fury, out of anxiety and panic, out of disbelief like she should have.
No, she asked calmly. Persistently. And in her stony face was a shade of…worry.
He could feel unreasonable anger rage inside of him—why was she worried? Why did she not turn her back and run? If she knew already that Shisui had died by his hands, she should have also realized the extent of his capabilities—she was in danger, he could kill her because there was no way she stood a fighting chance against him—why did she not run?
"Go away, Chiaki Miho," he said harshly. "Go away, go tend to your fever and keep your end of your threat—walk by me and don't blink twice. Forget it. Forget it all."
"Uchiha—"
"Don't!" he said angrily, uncontrollably, because he could not stand the way Miho would prod and poke at Shisui's death like it was an open wound inside of him that was barely sealing—he could not stand her being close because then it would never disappear—he could not stand her inquiry, the way she said his clan name like it was his name, no, he wanted nothing to do with it, with the Uchiha, with his actions, with having killed Shisui and acting like he did not care—
"Don't what?" she said.
He could not reply—a hazy red had clouded his eyes and all of a sudden, all he could see was Shisui's deadened eyes, his slightly agape mouth and the pelting raindrops and the pain and the blood and the grief—
A warmth enveloped him as Miho bent down and embraced him gently, wearily, because she had been right in the end, that Shisui's death had make him crack, but Miho couldn't know that, shouldn't know that or else she knew too much—
But she knew, and didn't care, and wanted to know more, but stopped asking, and instead Itachi was left with her arms around him and his grief and escaping tears and his trembling arms that could not help but hold her back because in the end he was still a child in her arms, wishing she was his mother instead but knowing that only Miho could blindly accept at this point because he had betrayed his family and that was just it, he had killed Shisui, and now he was lost, alone, unhinged, and desperate.
It looked like the rest of the world had turned against Itachi. And to the rest of the world, he had become unbearably cold, distant, suspicious. So Miho did not quite understand.
Why did she still support him? Still worry about him?
Her father warned her against him—"Do not associate with Itachi. There is something wrong with that boy. He does not trust you, Miho, he does not trust anyone. He will push you away if you seek him out, and I don't want you getting hurt."
But he did not try to push her away like he did before—he sought her out, even, when he seemed weary and frustrated with something she dared not ask about. Instead, he would wait for her patiently after her shift in the hospital and then drag her away, far away from the chattering of Konoha and into the clearings behind the forest, a fair distance away from the village. There, they would simply sit in silence, sometimes holding hands when Itachi seemed to need it, other times talking about little things, and never mentioning the Uchiha or Shisui. Miho never bothered to ask where their relationship stood. It seemed like a stupid idea.
"Miho?" he said one day, his voice raspy.
"Mm?" She had been toying with a blade of grass.
"I meant to tell you happy birthday, that day."
"…I know."
Itachi chuckled wearily and rolled on his side to face her.
"Why do you always know?" he said. "You always seem to."
It took her a moment to answer.
"Lately…" she said haltingly, "I seem to be able to read things well. People. Chakra flow. Emotions. It's…it helps me speculate. But…" She let out a breath, "it's all overwhelming. Sometimes I feel things from people that makes me just…exhausted."
He sat up, his dark eyes showing concern.
"I can feel it too," he said honestly. "You seem tired all the time. Don't you think it's because of your kekkei genkai?"
Miho blinked. "I never really thought about it that way. I just assumed it was because I've been working twelve hour shifts."
"No, I'm rather certain it's your bloodline," he said confidently. "I've been thinking about it since you collapsed that…one day. You…you say feeling people's emotions makes you feel overwhelmed. I think it's because you haven't been able to filter when you want to use your ability or not. It just…happens."
"But…"
"You should train a bit," he said, lying back down on the grass. "Just practice a little—it'll make you feel better."
Without another word, he closed his eyes, welcoming the breezes that enveloped them as his mind clearly went elsewhere far away from her, and she was the one clinging on to him.
Practice. Of course it's his solution—his answers have generally always come down to the motto of "Practice makes perfect."
In all honesty though, I do not care for practicing. I do not care for this exhaustion. If it means that I can understand him just a little bit better, I don't mind it.
I don't think he quite understands, really, just what it means to understand someone. He understands me—I believe I'm rather straightforward, and even though the normal person can't understand all my nooks and crannies, of course he can. He's always been that way.
But in my situation, it's not the same. He started off as someone I utterly hated and despised and then became someone I became comfortable around and would actually do things for. I did my first wound assimilation on him, and then I realized that perhaps we had changed, perhaps I had changed, and that he was…is…someone I…I think I really care for.
She wrote these words so small that Itachi nearly had to activate his Sharingan to read it.
I can't understand him fully, and some things I will never be able to know unless he tells me them himself. But I…
It's strange. How everyone is so convicted that he killed Shisui? No proof…and yet, no questions.
The body had no marks. And he has no motive.
Only I know. Only I know for certain that he was the one who killed Shisui. And yet…yet I'm not frightened. I'm curious. I'm worried instead. Why did he do it? He hates killing. He hates it—I know that much. So why? Why would he do it when he is clearly in pain now, when…
I don't think I'll ever forget it, what happened that day. I have never seen him so inconsolable, so…un-composed. Not him. He's always been one for farces and facades of perfection…I think that was one of the first times he had actually broken down any defenses he had and seemed…vulnerable. Unsure.
It makes me laugh, actually. How his own relatives can be so convicted of his guilt when they can't even see his own inconsolable grief. They can't see his own lack of conviction.
I'm worried, though. What is he doing? Why did he kill Shisui?
I don't know. Sometimes, I'm not even sure I want the answers. I just want things to remain as they are. Him seeking me out. The silences. The comfort.
The fights with Otou-san are almost worth it.
"You're fighting with Hiroki-sensei again?" queried Itachi nonchalantly one day.
Miho looked at him, surprised. "How…"
"I sometimes pass by your house to find you, but Hiroki-sensei's chakra is easy enough to read."
Miho did not even bother chastising him for his stalker-ish tendencies.
"He's just being…very judgmental," she said lamely.
Itachi gave a crooked smile. "Is it about me?"
"…Yeah."
"Why, exactly, do you still consent to be around me, Miho?"
Miho shrugged, evidently uncomfortable. "Because I think they're missing something."
"Or is it because you like me?"
Miho's expression grew sour. "Don't kid yourself, Itachi."
She never called him by his surname anymore. It had become taboo.
"Am I worth it?" he asked.
She didn't reply for a long time.
"Am I?" he persisted, a little more seriously.
A quick nod.
I can't let this continue, he thought.
But he was already feeling the little bouts of redemption that Miho always gave him unconsciously seep into his chest. And then their fingers were entwined.
"What is this?"
"A bracelet. Kakashi-senpai gave it to me for my birthday."
"Oh."
"Are you jealous?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I can read you, you know."
"…Take it off."
"Are you going to give me one to replace it?"
"No."
"Then I'm leaving it on."
"No."
"Is that all you can say?"
"No."
"Give me a replacement."
"No."
I got a necklace from hims today. He has the same one. It has the pinwheel of the Sharingan on it.
It seems like he can't let them go. And he wants to make sure I won't let him go either.
"I see…" said the Hokage gravely. "They suspect you."
"Yes."
"…I am sorry to have made you kill your cousin—"
"That's not the point," said Danzou impatiently. "The Uchiha are getting out of hand—without any insight into their dealings, there is no time to lose. We must get rid of them immediately."
Itachi felt his blood run cold, even though he had been anticipating this for so long already.
"When?" said Itachi unemotionally.
"At your leisure," said Danzou, "but as soon as you find the opportunity, strike."
At his leisure.
He could kill his family at his leisure.
He hated them all.
"A quick note," said the aged councilwoman. "I have noticed an issue of importance."
The Hokage nodded in her direction.
"Speak."
"Chiaki Hiroki…it has not escaped my notice that he is intimately included in the Uchiha community. What does he know?"
Itachi's mouth had gone dry.
"Everything," he answered.
"Then dispose of him as well," she said.
"Doesn't he have a daughter?" said the councilman curiously.
"She doesn't know anything," Itachi said instantly.
There was a silence as they all looked at him.
"Are you sure?" said Danzou seriously. "Her father may have conveyed some of the Uchiha's intentions…we cannot take risks."
They were all nodding now, except for the Hokage.
"We cannot take risks," repeated Danzou. "Dispose of her as well."
"Well, it's been a while," said Madara. "I would've thought you'd given up."
Itachi said nothing.
"Well?" said the elder Uchiha. "Show me them. Your eyes."
He closed them and then reopened them with a snap—the pinwheel design was already spinning against the bloody red, a testament to his crime and his newfound power.
He heard Madara let out a sigh.
"Beautiful," he said. "I see you've stayed true to your word. And in return…" Madara chuckled gleefully, "you will have my assistance as we ruin our clan."
He was a sick bastard.
"You should know, though," continued Madara, "I like to keep tabs on you. And I can't help but be curious…what about that girl?"
Itachi's breath hitched.
"What girl?" he said monotonously.
"Don't play dumb, Itachi. The Ishachi girl."
"How did you know she had the Ishachi—"
"Hiding chakra like that is not common, boy. Back when they were at the peak of their strength, the Ishachi were formidable opponents—healers, sensors, infiltrators. The best of the best could not only hide their chakra but disguise it—it's a skill I learned from them."
Itachi did not say anything.
"I see she and her father are rather closely affiliated with the clan. Shall we kill her and her father as well?"
"Leave them," said Itachi harshly. "They're mine."
"For the killing?"
One swift nod. Madara chuckled again.
"Very well, I'll leave them to you. Let our planning commence."
"Nii-san," said Sasuke's voice from behind.
Itachi still could not help but stiffen at the sound of his little brother.
"Can you help me with shuriken practice today?" Sasuke asked.
"…Not today, Sasuke," replied Itachi. "Ask Otou-san."
He heard Sasuke let out an angry little pout and could not help but smile at the immature sound.
"No, everyone knows that you're the best," said Sasuke. "I don't want to bother him anyway."
Itachi turned around and beckoned for Sasuke to come closer. Mistaking Itachi's intention, Sasuke's face grew elated and he ran over quickly, expectantly—
Itachi poked him lightly on the head, a familiar action, teasing and kind.
"Sorry, Sasuke," he said quietly. "Not today."
He couldn't do this.
"Are you all right?" Miho said.
Itachi nodded wordlessly.
"All right then," she said uncertainly. "I promised your brother that I'd help him with his shuriken practice after I finish—can you wait until after that?"
Another nod.
"Look," said Miho irritably, "will you at least tell me what's wrong? You're such a stoic little ass—I can never do anything to help you—"
"Sorry," he said suddenly.
Miho looked at him, her irritation still evident but lessened.
"It's fine," she sighed. "Here."
She handed him a wrapped box.
"It's dinner," she said to his confused face. "You know, in case you're hungry? And stop eating those food pills—those are for emergencies, idiot."
The necklace glistened at her neck. He wished he could have taken it back.
"Miho, for the last time, stop meeting with Itachi—"
"I'm not!" she said, aggravated. "I'm meeting with Sasuke!"
Hiroki looked at her, startled.
"Oh. Why?"
"Because he's been neglected by Itachi and he's upset," sighed Miho. "I promised I would help him out a bit with shuriken practice—I've been busy at the hospital and it's been hard to meet up with him. I finally had some free time today."
"All right," said Hiroki, clearly still dubious.
Miho gave another sigh and turned to her father. He looked worn out; the wrinkles on his face had multiplied and deepened, and Miho felt a pang of guilt. Their fights lately were nothing on the scale of before, but still…it left an uneasy feeling in her stomach, especially when she saw that her father had indeed grown old without her looking.
"Otou-san…you should rest some more."
"Are you thinking I look old?" he chuckled. "You are already fifteen—time passes quickly."
"…I wish you wouldn't spend so much time at the Uchiha compound. You always return so late from their meetings—and you're always so drained too."
"It's nothing, Miho. Don't worry about it."
"All the same…"
Hiroki chuckled again and patted her head lightly.
"Miho, Sasuke is a child. Don't be too hard on him."
"I'm not hard on him."
"And…and I'm sorry for what happened with Itachi."
Her stomach lurched. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
Hiroki exhaled, his face looking more exhausted than before.
"I had high hopes and expectations for that boy," he said softly, more to himself than to Miho. "It's a pity…"
"What are you talking about?" she said.
Hiroki jolted out of his train of thought. "It's nothing, Miho. Just be careful…and don't trust Itachi."
His warning was lost on her. She fingered her necklace, knowing that Hiroki was wrong.
"I'm…so tired," yawned Miho as she and Sasuke trudged back to the Uchiha compound.
"You need to train more," said Sasuke wisely.
"Shut up, kid. I just worked twelve hours at the hospital while you probably slept through most of school."
"I did not! I paid attention so I can get good grades!"
Night had already fallen with its company of cool winds and the hooting of owls. The moon shone brightly over the village, innocent and twinkling.
"Did you get good grades at the Academy, Miho?" said Sasuke inquisitively.
She shrugged. "I was as good as I could be…top of my class."
"Really?"
"What's with the tone of surprise?" she scowled.
"I always thought Nii-san was…"
Miho snorted. "Your brother wasn't even in my class, Sasuke. He graduated years before I did."
"Oh." Sasuke fell silent for a moment. "Miho, do you think there's something…" He changed the direction of his sentence. "My brother's the same, isn't he? He still doesn't agree to train me, he always ignores me and just makes fun of me if I need help…nothing's changed, has it?"
Miho didn't reply immediately.
"No," she said finally. The words of one who refused to see the truth. "I don't think Itachi's changed that much. I think he's just…a little misunderstood."
Though her words sounded vacant and half-hearted even to herself, Sasuke seemed satisfied with it. As the two of them approached the compound, though, Miho felt a shiver run through her.
"Are you cold, Sasuke?" she queried.
He shrugged, but she could tell that he was ill at ease.
"I think I'm okay…but don't you feel…"
Miho abruptly sensed someone's chakra near them and she whirled around, grabbing Sasuke in the meantime and holding him behind her. There was no one behind them, and so she turned her gaze upward. Something caught the corner of her vision and she swung back around, scanning the sky for the dark profile she could've sworn she'd seen. But the sky was empty, and there was nothing on the light pole that was impaled against the surface of brightly lit moon.
"Let's go home," said Sasuke, and his voice was shaky.
"I'll send you home then."
"No, it's fine," he said. "I can take care of myself."
"Sasuke," she said urgently.
"Don't baby me, Miho," he said, and this time, he sounded annoyed. "I got it—when Nii-san was my age, he'd already activated his Sharingan and could do all sorts of stuff to take care of himself. No one babied him then."
Miho threw up her hands.
"Obnoxious and ungrateful, that's what you are," she said. "Fine, little Sasuke, I'll see you tomorrow."
She left Sasuke and headed home. There was something strange about the Uchiha compound, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was; after all, she thought that she'd seen lights on inside, and the Uchiha households were one of the best guarded in the village.
Still, she was unable to shake off the feeling that something was odd. Miho kept her chakra fully suppressed as she dove into the darkness of the alleyways, cautious to keep her movements swift and smooth; she could not pinpoint what to expect, and could not prevent her heartbeat from accelerating out of sheer anxiety.
Only when she was in the safe confines of her home did she let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps her nerves were getting the better of her. And though her headaches had gotten slightly better, Miho knew that she was still not in the best health; she was getting rather jittery.
She walked into the kitchen, surprised to find no dirty dishes in the sink, and not even the slightest aroma of the food that she had prepared for Hiroki earlier.
Maybe he was at a meeting.
But the emptiness was alarming. Her eyes swung to the clock on the wall; it was late, and Hiroki would've sent word if the meeting was going to go on for later.
It suddenly hit her, what had seemed so strange about the Uchiha compound.
She had sensed no chakra.
This realization nearly made her scream—she dove out the door, chakra flowing to her legs in such a rhythmic motion that every step was faster than the first. She was so stupid—how could she not have noticed that there was no chakra? She had been inundated by everyone's emotions wherever she went—she should've noticed immediately—but training with Sasuke had proved to be isolating, and she hadn't thought to check…
Her blood chilled as she began to think about "what-if" situations—where was Hiroki? Wasn't he at the Uchiha? What if…what if something had gone wrong?
And…
Sasuke.
She bolted through the streets and skidded into through the gates that blocked off the Uchiha residencies—they were slightly ajar, and she stopped upon seeing what was on the ground.
Blood and lifeless bodies were sprawled on the ground like marionettes with their strings cut; Miho looked wildly around, willing for her chakra to remain under control with her heartbeat as she tried to sense.
No one was alive in her vicinity; she moved forward, trying to remain as quiet as possible, her eyes avoiding the corpses that dragged her attention to them. She thought vaguely for a moment to get the police—but the Uchiha were the police force—and she could only think of little Sasuke and her dad and…her stomach felt sick. Where was Itachi? Why…he had been acting strange, even by her standards, earlier…what if…
And then she sensed him—Hiroki. She stopped where she was as she concentrated—he was in the house to her right, a large, traditionally built house that seemed like a meeting place; she slid open the door, relieved because she couldn't sense anyone else there—
"Otou-san!" she said in excited relief as she stared in.
But Hiroki wasn't alone.
He turned to look at her, his aged face wide with surprise and fear—she had never seen Hiroki frightened before—but so did the man who held a blade to Hiroki's throat. It was a masked man, but as her eyes grew more accustomed to the dim lighting, she realized that it was a familiar mask, a mask that…that she knew very well—
"Leave!" screamed Hiroki. "Run, Miho!"
But the masked man did the impossible, he turned his attention back to Hiroki and then the silver sword slid quickly and effortlessly, and then before she knew it, blood had covered Hiroki's throat and her father fell to the ground with a gurgle of agony—and then there was a final twitch, and he laid there, still, his eyes still wide open from panic upon seeing his daughter, from staring at death in the form of a weasel mask—
Miho could not find the words to speak. She did not have the energy. She did not have the mental processing capability. She stood there, dumbly, staring at her father's body that now had a pool of blood coagulating around his head; she did not feel, she did not think, she did not process anything—
The masked man walked towards her, but Miho did not take a step backward. Her feet were rooted rigidly to the ground; was she shaking? Was that it? Because suddenly, this man's killing intent rose so drastically that it was all she could do not to break out crying—he was going to kill her, he was going to slit her throat just like he did to Hiroki and she could do nothing to defend herself because she was useless, because her feet wouldn't run and her hands would move and her brain wouldn't work—
But the man passed by her, just walked out of the room calmly, without even looking in her direction.
His footsteps pounded in her head like a hammer on a nail, incessantly, painfully, as he just brushed against her and continued on his demented way, his sword gripped in his hand, its tip still dripping her father's blood on the ground—
And then she got it. The smallest speck. The barest flicker. But she recognized it.
It was Itachi's chakra behind her.
And in her rose an uncontrollable fury, a fury that was fueled by fear and panic but mostly by the roar of betrayal that was climbing inside of her—she spun around and before she even could process what she had done, she had punched him as hard as he could across the face, cracking the mask, drawing blood on her knuckles—he spiraled but not to the ground, caught off guard but recovered himself as he withdrew a few feet—but Miho was unstoppable at this point, she didn't bother saving her chakra but expended as she wished, wanting to inflict as much bodily pain upon that bearer of the weasel mask—
"Itachi!"
The name came out as a twisted, terrible, agonized screech; she could see his figure grow rigid and his grip on the sword grow tighter—and right when she thought he was going to attack…he fled.
"Come back!" she screamed, following him. "Come back, show me your face, you coward!"
But he didn't listen to her—he kept going, farther and farther, past the dead Uchiha bodies on the ground, past the houses and then past the edge of the village—they were in the forest now, but Miho was hardly tired—she was fueled only by the image of her father being slain before her, and the blind courage that accompanies one who knows that she is facing death—but none of that mattered because—
"I trusted you!" she shrieked. "After all this time, I trusted you!"
He stopped, and Miho went running into him with as much force as she could manage—she only wished that she had a kunai in her hand to sink into his heart, his twisted, black heart, the fiend, the traitor, the bastard she could kill over and over—
He only let her hit once, and then he was fighting back, every move cold and calculated, every move better than hers, more controlled, more powerful. She found herself losing ground, found her vision blurring and realized that it was because her eyes were flooded with tears—
"Why?" she screamed. "I trusted you! You killed him! You killed Otou-san! You killed everyone in your clan—Itachi! Why?"
And then she was grabbed around the throat and held immobile against the trunk of a tree—she found herself gasping, struggling and hitting anywhere she could, but Itachi held her still and well out of reach.
"Bastard," she spat, "traitor, you…"
An excruciating pain entered her, somewhere, where, she did not know, but she felt it, felt it and could not feel anything after that—and it hurt so badly that the tears of fury and betrayal became mingled with tears of pain, and she knew that she was dying, knew that he had actually impaled her against that damn tree—fucking Itachi, what had she done, what had she ever believed in—her conviction that he was all right, that he was normal, fighting with Hiroki—a sob rose in her throat but was blocked by the blood that had filled her mouth; her vision was failing her, the world was turning black and the last thing she was ever going to see was the fucking bastard who had stolen everything from her—
She made one feeble swipe—it was not even a punch, maybe a pathetic slap, but that was all she was at this point, pathetic, crying, naïve and betrayed; her hand caught his face and ripped off his mask, but her eyes were already closing because she couldn't even see that cursed face in front of her, but all she knew was that it was his chakra, and then her head hung down, unmoving, cold, and the last thing she saw was his stupid mask, crushed in and cracked, painted with that playful smirk of his, and then she saw nothing at all.
We tried to pretend what it would be like if we were both stupid today. And I don't mean that in a derogatory manner—but we both know that we're much more intelligent than the average ninja, and that's perhaps why we get in so many problems.
It was a childish conversation, a what-if situation, really silly, actually. But it was relaxing—he said that he would open a restaurant, I said that I would be a farmer. When he asked me what I would grow (the answer was so obvious—potatoes), he laughed, and it's a sound I haven't heard in a while, just because he's been so distant lately.
And then I realized that our lives would be a lot better if we were stupid, if we were normal, but then we wouldn't have met if we were.
free talk:
i'm so so so so so sorry for not having updated this in over half a year. i'm a very terrible person and i'm so sorry for it! i will try to make this updating a little more regular. : ( i'm so sorry! i will do better.
now that we've finished up the pre-massacre arc, there's a lot more to be done. please look forward to it!
if you feel nice, please review! :) i know, i don't deserve it, haha.
lj later.
xoxo,
m.n